Always A Rock
by ginnyharryxox
Summary: Mark has saved lives doing what he does best, being stoic and there for his friends and family.


Disclaimer: If I owned Rent, it wouldn't be closed right now

Rock

Disclaimer: If I owned _Rent,_ it wouldn't be closed right now. Enough said.

This chapter is kind of a background to my upcoming fic. However, it works as a stand alone one shot as well. I hope you enjoy it.

I have always been the one to survive. As long as I can remember, I have been the rock for my friends, for my family. For everyone I know. It started when I was little, and continues today.

When I was in fifth grade, I was diagnosed with terminal brain cancer. The doctors tried to remove the tumor, but they weren't sure if they could get it all out. I was on drugs and in and of hospitals for two years. At one point, I was given a month to live.

But I pulled through. The entire time I was sick, I was surrounded by ready made friends- the other kids on the oncology ward. We had far too much in common. And day by day, I watched my friends slowly waste away. Some of them died, and I had to watch it. While I survived. A ten year old can carry a lot of guilt, you know.

I never cried, though. The other kids, who did cry, who were sad and lonely and scared that they would be next, they looked to me to keep them sane. That's what I did. I was the steady, reliable Mark. I was sick, but I was strong. They figured I would always be there. And I was. My friends either went home or passed away, but I remained in the hospital. Until one day when the doctors told me I was in remission. I was like the miracle child. I wasn't expected to live to be eleven, yet when I left the ward, I was twelve. I've been in remission for 11 years. I'm no longer sick.

When I was in 10th grade, my brother, Aaron, was hit by a car while riding his bike and died. He was only nine. My family fell apart. My mother spent all of her time in her room, drugged up and a total mess. My father took to drinking and became violent. Cindy stopped coming home from school and spent most of her time at her best friend's house. It was left up to me to care for my younger sister, Allie. I had to stay calm and sane so that she'd have someone to rely on. So I did. I was strong, and sane, and I sent her to school every day with her hair brushed and her lunch packed and her homework done, hoping that her life could remain with some semblance of normalcy. When my parents finally got better, I was there to help my father get past his alcohol problem and for my mother to finally come out of her bedroom. I helped Cindy realize that home wasn't such a bad place to be after all. I like to think that I'm the reason they function today. Even when I wanted so badly to fall apart, I never did. I was the rock for my family.

Nowadays, I spend my days with three HIV positive friends of mine and a couple who I barely see anymore. I know that I won't have any of them forever. I've already had to play the rock a few times. When April died and Roger was going through withdrawal and was more of a mess than I thought it was possible to be, I was there for him. I endured the endless cries of how he hated me, how he wanted his smack, how he wanted April. I endured the times he hit me, not even realizing that I was trying to help him. I got him clean. Not all on my own, of course, but even so. I helped Roger to be strong while Mimi was going through withdrawal, when all he wanted to do was give her the stupid drugs so he wouldn't see her in pain anymore. I told him that he'd been exactly like this; and didn't he appreciate the fact that he was off the drugs? And he did, and he was grateful. When Angel died, and Mimi and Collins were devastated and the family was torn apart, I was there for everyone. I was a friend to Roger and Mimi and Collins at the same time, which wasn't easy, by the way. I didn't fall apart. I was the rock. When Maureen and Joanne were fighting and hated each other, I was a friend to both of them. I was a rock.

I'm slowly but surely watching my friends die. Roger is pale, and weak, and doesn't eat much anymore. I'm not sure, but I think I might have seen a lesion a few days ago. I haven't looked since. I'd rather not know. Mimi is even sicker than Roger. I think they'll go together, and it'll be soon. Collins won't be around much longer, either. He's been sick a long, long time. He's strong, but there's only so much a body can take. He has AIDS, now, you know. Mimi and Roger probably do too; they're just hiding me. I hardly see Maureen and Joanne anymore. They got married a few months ago and I'm pretty sure they're trying to adopt. Once they get the child they'll probably get out of here. I wouldn't want to raise my kid here, that's for sure.

So I'll be alone again. I almost can't stand the thought of being the rock through another round of deaths.

I have a confession to make. Sometimes, I wish that my cancer would come back. I wish that I would die in a freak car accident.

Sometimes, I wish that I could just get the stupid virus and end my misery.

-fin-


End file.
